


When the Lights Go Out

by Carmenlire



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Immortal Husbands, Late Night Conversations, Late at Night, M/M, New York City, Power Outage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-18 20:10:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20644982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carmenlire/pseuds/Carmenlire
Summary: “You’re telling me there’s no way you can magic some lights in here? Not even a little lamp?”“Well,” Magnus starts thoughtfully, in that meandering tone that Alec loves so much. “I suppose I could wave a hand and have the electricity up and running in the loft but where’s the fun in that?”With those words, he turns and looks up at Alec and shakes his head, this time fond, as he sees the impish glint in his husband’s gaze.





	When the Lights Go Out

Standing in front of the drink cart, Alec pours one glass of red and then another. Thankful for his vision rune and the dozen candles lit around the living room, he’s careful not to overfill the wine glasses. He doesn’t turn immediately back to the couch. Instead, he looks through the open french doors to the rest of New York and his mouth softens as he takes in his favorite city during a blackout. 

It’s different like this. There’s still some noise but nowhere near the frenetic cacophony that his corner of the world is known for. It’s like he’s the only person in the world and he relishes the silence that’s just shy of being oppressive.

Shaking his head a little to clear his thoughts, Alec sets the now empty bottle next to its predecessors, Alec raises one glass to his lips and carries the other to where his husband sits.

His surefooted rune comes in handy, too, and he’s careful not to trip on the edge of the rug, not to run into the corner of the coffee table that’s been pushed out of the way for the night-- he knows thanks to sleepily stumbling through the loft in the mornings just how wicked those corners can be to vulnerable flesh.

“Thank you, darling.” Magnus hums a little as he takes the second glass and he pats the empty space on the floor next to him. He smiles up at him. His unglamoured eyes catch the candlelight, only a thin edge of gold surrounding bottomless black and Alec’s heart clutches, just a little, at seeing Magnus so content and open and welcoming. It’s the most natural thing in the world for Alec to return that grin as he lowers himself to the floor in front of the couch. 

It’s piled high with blankets-- their very own pillow fort. Reaching an arm behind Magnus, Alec sweeps a thumb over his shoulder and pulls his husband just the tiniest bit closer.

He noses along Magnus’s hair. There’s laughter in his voice when he asks in a low voice, “You’re telling me there’s no way you can magic some lights in here? Not even a little lamp?”

Magnus, conspicuously coy, looks down and takes a deep drink of his wine. While he can’t see it, Alec can hear the smile in Magnus’s voice, just knows that he’s biting his amusement futilely in check. 

“Well,” Magnus starts thoughtfully, in that meandering tone that Alec loves so much. “I suppose I could wave a hand and have the electricity up and running in the loft but where’s the fun in that?” With those words, he turns and looks up at Alec and shakes his head, this time fond, as he sees the impish glint in his husband’s gaze.

But then it eases into something serious and Alec’s attention sharpens. Magnus’s eyes turn unseeing and it’s an expression Alec knows well. His love is lost in the past and thankfully, it looks like he’s willing to bring Alec along on this trip down memory lane.

“There was a time, you know, when this was par for the course.” Magnus turns so that he’s facing Alec more directly. His legs are tucked under him, his robe slipping open to reveal skin turned golden by the scant candles strewn around the room. Alec brings a knee up and ducks closer to hear Magnus who has grown quiet, contemplative, in a way he seldom allows himself to become in the company of anyone else.

“When I was a child, I was very good at roaming the woods surrounding our village. By moonlight, on a cloudy night, it didn’t matter. I knew my way intuitively. I knew by the way a branch snapped if it was a tiger or an orangutan. I could find my way home blindfolded. The stillness was all I knew.”

The low light laps at Magnus, makes him seem ancient and unbelievably young at once. Not for the first time, Alec’s struck by Magnus’s past-- it’s nothing bad, just another reminder that the man next to him has depths that he might still be learning a millennia from now.

It’s a blessing Alec doesn’t take for granted.

“And then I moved. Nowhere for long enough to make friends, for someone to find me. I ended up in London, though, in oh-- the mid eighteenth century? It was a filthy place and dank. At least my corner of it was. You could hear the rats at the end of an alley bickering, make out the conversation through walls thin as plaster.”

Magnus smiles and there’s something fond in it even if the rest of the emotion lurking in the edges is aching sentiment. “And then gas lamps started popping up and the factories were built and you’d hear the engines of these behemoth machines that never turned off. The coal always needed carted, the steel tempered.”

“London during the Industrial Revolution was a sight, Alexander. You’d have hated it.” Magnus laughs a little and his eyes flick up to meet Alec’s. “You like order, darling, and London was a well-oiled machine-- but it was dirty and a labyrinth of opportunity. It took me years to learn its underbelly, for it to become a home that was as familiar as the jungle in Batavia once was.” He shakes his head a little, mockingly dismayed. “You’d have been pickpocketed before you could call out for a constable.”

Alec rolls his eyes, though he has to admit what he’s learned about that particularly era leaves him with a lot to be desired. “Whatever,” he huffs and he’s mostly mollified when Magnus leans close and lays a smacking kiss against his cheek before settling back.

He places his empty wine glass on the floor next to them and turns his full attention to Alec. Alec shifts a little and sighs, content, when Magnus moves until he’s resting his head against his chest, an arm slung low over Alec’s middle.

“I know you shadowhunters love your technology and are always looking for the next gadget but there’s something to be said for sitting in complete silence. It’s like you’re the only person in the world, like the world is spinning just for you,” Magnus whispers and the words catch against Alec’s chest, an eerie echo of his earlier thoughts that he relishes.

Magnus laughs a little. He runs an absent finger over Alec’s side in a random pattern and Alec tries his damnedest to still a shudder at the touch. 

“Did you know the first night I had a refrigerator, I didn't sleep a wink?”

It takes Alec a moment to register the words but when he does he can’t stop his little noise of confusion. “Why,” he asks, bemused and interested.

He feels Magnus smile. “Because, darling, it made _noise_. The lack of humming that makes the loft seem as still as a tomb right now? That was my normal. With the noise of the ice box permeating my residence at the time, it was too loud. It kept me up all night.”

Alec frowns. “You’re kidding right?”

“Oh, Alexander. You can’t quite comprehend what life was like before everything was on, on, on. While I am a man of change and progress, it’s easy for anyone-- especially immortals-- to become stuck in their ways. CDs were popular when Ragnor finally broke down and purchased a record player. But the mundanes were just as bad,” he throws in demurely.

Alec’s voice is droll as he replies, “How so?”

“There was mass anxiety when electricity was first installed in homes. People thought it produced vapors that would be harmful if inhaled. Some people employed servants to waft the fumes away.”

“You’re making that up,” Alec says decisively. He looks down at Magnus with a stern look. “You saw that in a Downton Abbey episode.”

He’s expecting Magnus to grow chagrined and recant. Instead, his husband laughs out loud and pulls Alec in for a kiss that’s as intense as it is short. When he breaks away, he pokes a figure in Alec’s chest. “No, Alexander-- _you_ saw it in a Downton Abbey episode. I lived through it and found that detail added a layer of authenticity to an already wonderful period drama.”

Taking the correction in stride, Alec slouches against the couch. “You’ve lived such a life, babe. I can’t imagine seeing such change and just rolling with the punches.”

“You don’t have to imagine it, darling. You’ll be living it soon enough.”

There’s a gravitas in Magnus’s tone that feels a lot like censure. Alec looks over. Magnus’s eyes are clear, his stare direct. It’s not quite a challenge but Alec shakes his head slowly and lets the smile widen just a little around the corners of his mouth.

He reaches out and gently uses his thumb to pull Magnus’s bottom lip out from where he’d been biting down on it. It’s a little tick that doesn't emerge often and only ever around Alec.

It happens when Magnus is worried that Alec’s unhappy, as if there’s a world where that’s even possible when he’s Mr. Lightwood-Bane.

“Don’t put words in my mouth, Magnus,” Alec says softly. Their eyes don’t stray from each other as he continues, “It’s an opportunity most couldn’t dream of and one that I’m eager to experience. There’s a whole world out there waiting for me, us-- an entire eternity. I count it a blessing from Raziel that I’ll live to see such change and maybe, one day, tell someone about it in such fond, awestruck tones. There’s bad with living forever-- but there’s also a lot of good if you let yourself embrace it.”

Magnus is quiet for a moment and Alec lets him have whatever time he needs. Alec will be fifty two this year but he still looks the same as the day he took his vows. This conversation is nothing new and Alec is more than willing to assuage whatever guilt or worry that eats at Magnus whenever he thinks Alec isn’t completely, incandescently happy to have a million lifetimes to spend at his side.

“You’re always surprising me, Alec.” 

A gentle kiss that’s more a whisper of intent and then it warms, turning all-consuming. Magnus laughs as Alec urges him to his back, the mountain of pillows and blankets more than comfortable. It’s a sound that Alec promised himself decades ago that he’d spend the rest of his life chasing and as he swallows the sound for his own, he thinks that maybe a power outage isn’t the worst thing in the world. 

Not whenever it gives him such a wonderful excuse to ravish his husband. Between clearing his inbox and spending an evening drinking wine and talking with his husband, there's no contest, not even a hint of uncertainty in how Alec would choose to spend his time.

Hours later, when they’re wrapped around each other and sleeping quite soundly, Alec grunts as Magnus pokes him in the stomach.

“Go back to sleep, babe.” His voice slurs but he doesn’t care, can’t when Magnus’s is a warm weight over him. The best damned blanket he’s ever had, Alec thinks blearily.

“Darling, the electricity has turned back on. The lights are blinding me.”

They’d left a lamp on in their bedroom so that they’d know when the power returned. With the small sliver of his brain churning, Alec barely thinks for a moment before he’s grunting again, an intelligible sound that he knows Magnus has taken great pains to become fluent in over the years.

“Then turn them off.” He rouses himself enough to kiss the top of Magnus’s hair before he’s melting back into the bed, already falling back asleep. “Let’s keep the power off for a few more hours. I don't want to share you with the world again just yet.”

He feels Magnus smile against his chest. “Whatever you say, Alexander,” he whispers and Alec feels the charge in the air as his husband no doubt waves a hand and turns the lamp off-- as he leaves the electricity off until morning.

In the stillness, Alec feels like he and Magnus are the only two people in the world. It’s a feeling that’s no less potent for the way he always feels like that, like the world could burn but everything would be alright, if only he and Magnus were left.

Falling back asleep, the quiet wraps around them and seems to sigh, the darkness a welcome reprieve and an escape.

**Author's Note:**

> catch me on tumblr or twitter @carmenlire!


End file.
